


the elasticity of human desire

by danhedonia



Category: Skins (UK)
Genre: Amnesia, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Sort of an AU, and internalized homophobia/dread over potential gayness, im crying, maxxie is v sweet, not for a while though, post-tony's accident, references to injury, some pining too, starting at the beginning of volume 2, tony is v angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 17:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17871653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danhedonia/pseuds/danhedonia
Summary: Tony’s body didn’t feel like his home anymore, and he had no idea how to fix that, so he just sobbed harder and pressed closer to Maxxie, who seemed like he might be the only person willing to help Tony find his home again.or, the one in which tony's been hit by a bus and everyone but maxxie abandons him and he can't understand why.





	the elasticity of human desire

**Author's Note:**

> this is a completely self-indulgent fic that has not been beta'd or proofread at all. you have been warned.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> parts of this are straight out of volume 2 episode 1, but i hope i made it a little more interesting. it's not just a straight reiteration of the show i promise.

Everything felt fuzzy somehow. Tony had settled on that word a while back. He didn’t know how to explain it exactly, but his life felt like a haze. Everything that was happening felt strange, somewhat off, but more than anything, his memories felt like trying to watch one of those really old, poor quality home movies that’s deteriorated over time. The colors were off and the world was blurry, the sound was nearly indistinguishable, and he almost never understood the context of what he was seeing. It probably didn’t help that all of his friends had sort of ditched him. He understood it a little, maybe - he’d gotten absolutely fucking obliterated by a bus, according to his sister, Effy. Recovering was a long process and it was _hard_ , and he figured it must be for those around him, too. Especially those that had cared about whoever he was before the accident.

He just wished they’d stayed around. Even if he hadn’t been able to remember them, it still would’ve been nice to know that people had loved him enough to stay around even though he couldn’t remember who he was or who they were to him. It sucked, feeling like an absolute fucking idiot and a nutter _and_ someone who has no friends.

Well, he has one. Maxxie. Max’s the only person who still cares. Or maybe ever cared. Tony couldn’t really know if he couldn’t remember, could he?

 

* * *

 

Things came back sometimes. It took a lot of concentration and made his head hurt like hell, but Tony could see his memories better sometimes. Less like a deteriorated home video and more like a low-budget movie from the seventies.

He wasn’t sure what brought them back. He wasn’t sure he had the mental capacity to try to figure it out, either.

 

_He was sat on a bed in a small room. It was cold. Maxxie was there, too. He looked… sad._

_“What happened?” Tony asked as he sat down on a little bed next to Maxxie. They were roommates or something, apparently - Tony could figure that much out._

_“He’s just, like. Switched. About me being… You know.” Maxxie sounded so distressed, like he  didn’t want to admit to himself that this had happened and he wanted even less to admit to someone else._

_“Blonde.”_

_“No!”_

_“Short?”_

_“Gay!.”_

_It was quiet for a moment. Max stared at the ground and Tony watched him, lips curling into a smirk after a moment._

_“Shall I give you head?”_

_“What?”_

_“Might cheer you up.”_

_“For fuck’s sakes! You’re supposed to be my friend. I’ve come in here with a problem, okay?”_

_Tony wasn’t listening, though. Not really. His eyes had traveled down to Maxxie’s lips and then he was leaning forward to press their lips together. It only took a moment for Maxxie to shove him off._

_“You fuck!”_

 

Tony was snapped out of his dream by someone saying his name.

“Tone?”

He looked up from where he’d been staring at the ground. Maxxie was stood in front of him, eyes tinged with worry like they always were when he looked at Tony now.

“What?” Tony asked softly.

“What do you think?”

“Think of what?”

“The moves.” Maxxie’s lips turned up into a soft, warm smile. “Me, Jonno, and Kel worked it out.”

The moves. Right. He was meant to be watching Maxxie dance. That’s why he was here, in the weird church or whatever the fuck this place was.

“It’s okay.”

 

Once they’d gotten on the bus to go back to Maxxie’s house for dinner, Tony couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d remembered. Had he really been that much of an asshole? Was he really someone who would’ve treated Maxxie, the only person who gave enough of a shit to stick around even though he was stupid now, like that? Like some sort of… toy?

Maybe he was being to harsh on himself, but...

Another bus passed them by, horn blaring loud enough to pull Tony out of his thoughts and riding close enough to them that it almost felt like he was going to get hit again-

“No!” Tony yelped out, hand instinctively reaching out to grip Max’s hand.

“Hey, there’s nothing to worry about, yeah?” Maxxie said softly, with no judgement or annoyance in his voice. Just concern.

Tony’s eyes flicked from the window to their hands, then back to the window. “Yeah.” He agreed quietly. Maxxie’s hand held his reassuringly, grounding Tony and reminding him that he was safe, that he wasn’t on that street again, that he wasn’t going to go back to hospital.

Suddenly, Tony felt shame so intense that he nearly pulled away from Maxxie entirely. It wasn’t the kind he normally felt, the kind that made him sink into himself because he’d lost his mind. No, this was much worse - it was a shame directed at who he was before the accident, some absolute monster who’d treat the boy sat next to him, whispering soft reassurances and squeezing Tony’s hand despite everything, the way that he had.

 

* * *

 

After a sufficiently awkward meal with Maxxie’s mum and an equally awkward journey back to his house with Jal and Chris because Sid didn’t show up for whatever reason, Tony was sat on his bed, with Effy sat on the edge of his bed just a few feet away. She was the only person he spent time with lately, other than Maxie. Nobody showed up anymore, not really. Even when they did, it was fucking awkward. Everyone was so scared, always walking on eggshells and treating Tony like some sort of mental patient or child. The worst part of it was that they wouldn’t just tell him the truth. There were always lies in some way or another. Sometimes it was sugar coating things, like when they told him that he wasn’t actually stupid, but sometimes it was just _lies_ , like they thought he couldn’t handle what was real. It was humiliating. It was so obvious what they meant, too. When Jal said, “Sid couldn’t make it, Tone,” he knew that she meant Sid didn’t _want_ to make it. He could’ve. Tony didn’t remember much, but he remembered that Sid never did much, and he could feel it in his gut. Sid didn’t want to see him anymore. When Chris told him that the ‘party’ they were going to that night wasn’t _really_ a party, Tony knew what that meant before Anwar even let it slip. There was a party, a massive one with pills and spliff and dancing and all of his friends, but Tony wasn’t invited. He would be too much of a drag. They’d have to babysit him the whole time and that would take all of the fun out of going to a party, wouldn’t it?

 

He hated feeling so helpless. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t properly dress himself, he couldn’t cut up his own food, he couldn’t even write his own bloody name. He was trying, he really was, but his body just wasn’t fucking _working_ \- it wouldn’t listen to his brain and he didn’t know how to fix it.

“Effy,” Tony said softly, one hand reaching out toward his pen jar. He wasn’t sure why he had it still, considering he couldn’t fucking use them. “Do you think I’ll ever be able to write again?”

“Dunno.” Effy said in that wistful sort of way that she had about her. “Maybe you just haven’t practiced enough. Maybe you’ve just gotta start from scratch.”

“Maybe.” He managed to fish a pen out of the jar, though it took far too much effort and involved him dropping the pen twice. “I don’t see how I could practice more, though.”

It was quiet, then. The only sounds in the room were the sounds of the pen scraping against the paper in uneven lines that Tony tried so desperately to form into coherent symbols. It wasn’t enough, though. He tried so hard, harder than he’d ever tried at anything and it somehow wasn’t enough, but then the failure of it all was too much. It was overwhelming and it coursed through his body faster than he could process it, and before he even realized it, Tony was sweeping his hand over his desk and knocking everything on to the floor, storming around his room and throwing his television against the mirror, tossing his shelves onto the ground and screaming and his sister’s pleas for him to stop fell on deaf ears until suddenly his dad was on top of him, pressing him into the bed as if that will somehow calm him down.

It didn’t. It only redirected his anger into tears.

The crying lasted for much longer than Tony would care to admit. He wasn’t sure how long, exactly, he just knew that by the time he was through, his dad and Effy were gone and he was alone on his bed. He didn’t want to move, but his bed felt too lonely with his tears still drying on his face, so he stood up and decided that taking a shower would be better than laying on a wet pillow until he inevitably drifted off to sleep.

 

After his shower, Tony was laying back on his bed in his pants and waiting for his hair to dry when his mobile rang. He picked it up and glanced at the name. _Maxxie_. Of course it was Maxxie. It always was lately.

“Hey, Tony. You alright?”

“No.” Tony said quietly. Normally, he might lie, but not to Maxxie. It didn’t make sense to. Maxxie was the only one who gave a shit now Nobody wants me to come out anymore.”

“Fuck them. Come anyway.”

There was a pause.

“My dad won’t let me go back to college.” Tony continued. “Says it’s too much for me. Guess I really am batty and useless now.”

“You’re not useless, Tone.” Maxxie’s voice came through the speaker almost immediately after the words left Tony’s mouth. It was always like that with Maxxie. He tried to correct Tony every time he insulted himself. It always made Tony’s heart a little lighter, his head a little clearer, just to know someone cares. “Stop sayin’ stuff like that.”

“Yeah, well. I just want to go to college.”

“My dad won’t let me leave.” Maxxie said after a moment. “We’re both bummed, bruv.”

“Why doesn’t Sid come anymore?” It took a moment for Tony to realize that he’d just blurted that out, but he couldn’t stop. “Can’t remember when he was here.”

There was a pause again. Tony knew Maxxie was processing what he’d just said, trying to figure out the message hidden between the words. He’d get it. Tony was sure of it. Maxxie must have realized how stressful this all was for Tony, how lonely he was, how he never saw anyone else. Maxxie was there for all of it. He watched it all. He was the only one there anymore, and he was such an empathetic person, it would’ve been impossible for him not to notice how alone Tony was. Tony admired that about Maxxie - his ability to care. He cared so much, so fiercely, that sometimes it was enough to make Tony feel not-alone anymore. Sometimes Maxxie smiled or laughed, and on the rarer occasions Tony would smile or laugh back, and it was enough to make Tony feel like he wasn’t mental or useless or whatever. For a moment, Tony wondered if he could care like that, too; if he’d cared about anyone that way before his memories got all fudgy. He was pulled out of those thoughts by Maxxie’s soft voice in his ear.

“He misses you, Tony”

“I miss me.”

Thing is, he didn’t really know what ‘me’ was. Maybe what he really missed was the concept of having a ‘me,’ of knowing who he was and what he wanted, who the people around him were.

“Come out.” Maxxie said. Tony could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll get you dancing.”

“Yeah?” Tony’s lips curled up. “You gonna gay me?”

“Hey! Tony’s here!” Laughter rang in Tony’s ear. “I’ll see you later, mate.”

 

* * *

 

Effy took Tony to the party later that night, and Tony realized after walking in that it was probably a terrible idea. Effy immediately disappeared into the crowd, the music was so loud that Tony couldn’t even hear himself think, and people were pressing around him so tightly that he felt claustrophobic in a way he never had before. He felt like he couldn’t get away, like the world was closing in on him and when he closed his eyes he was back on the street, phone in his hand and the sound of a blaring horn in his ears right before the bus smacked into him and-

“Help!” Tony screamed as loud as he could, hoping someone would hear, anyone. “Help! I-I wanna get _out_!”

He kept screaming and pushed through the crowd, but it felt like nobody could hear him, and he hadn’t felt this alone since he woke up in the hospital bed in pain and with nobody else in sight. He couldn’t remember anything, anyone, and for a few moments he thought he was completely alone and nobody would ever be there to help him, to save him from whatever that fuck was happening, and that’s _exactly_ what the crowd felt like.

Despite all of that, though, Tony did find his way out of the crowd eventually, and then out of the building. Then he was running into the forest as best as he could with his fucked up legs, collapsing on the forest floor behind some trees and crying because everything’s fucked up. He can’t even go out with his friends like he used to - or like he thinks he used to, at least. Sometimes he has flashbacks of laughter and spliff being passed around, but he can never figure out if it really happened or when it was or who was there.

The tears stopped after a few minutes. The crowd was gone and it was quiet and the cool night air calmed him down as it dried the wetness on his cheeks. Just as he was about to stand up, to make his way home, he heard voices just on the other side of the trees. They sounded familiar, and after a few moments he was able to place one of them. It was Sid, talking to a girl that Tony gathered knew him, but he didn’t remember her.

“You make me think about him.” The girl said quietly.

Sid sighed so loudly that Tony heard it clearly from his hiding spot. “You’re not the only one, ‘Chelle.” He sounded sad, so distressed, and Tony couldn’t help but wonder who this ‘him’ that had made them both so upset was. “I was there every day, trying to get him to say something. And everybody really, really fucked up and I’m just trying to… to… A-and nobody comes but me, ‘cause it’s so _terrible_. You should’ve fuckin’ helped me.”

“Alright!” The girl - ‘Chelle, apparently - blurted out, and Tony watched as she buried her face in her hands for a moment. “When it happened, before the bus… He was on the phone with me, and he said something.”

Tony stepped out from behind the tree because this was starting to feel far too close to eavesdropping for his comfort, especially because he was pretty sure that this ‘he’ they were talking about, this ‘he’ who’d gotten had something with a bus was _him_ , and hearing people talk about him like this made his head feel weird.

“I don’t think he remembers. He told me that he-”

Sid glanced up, eyes landing on Tony, and quickly cut Michelle off. “Oh.. Michelle-”

“Fuck’s sake, Sid, I’m trying to tell you this!” She glared at Sid’s face, and Tony could almost see the confusion as her eyes traced Sid’s face then followed his gaze. “Oh, Jesus-... Tony?”

“Hello.” Tony said quietly, because he didn’t know what else to say. He stared at Michelle for a moment, trying to decide if he wanted to know what he’d said to her that night. She was right. He didn’t remember. That wouldn’t feel right, though. He wanted to remember who he was on his own. So he started to turn around, to walk away, to go back home and hopefully forget this night like he’d forgotten everything else.

“Wait, I’ll go back with you.” Sid started to scramble to his feet, but Tony shook his head. It was funny - after Sid had stopped coming round, when he’d started sending other people to help Tony walk places, Tony had wanted nothing more than to see Sid again. Now that he was here, though, Tony wanted nothing more than to go away, to get out of Sid’s sight, because now he felt like some sort of _chore_ for Sid - a tedious job that he’d hated so much he gave up on.

“Effy’s taking me.” Tony lied smoothly. Effy was lost somewhere in that awful building that Tony had no intention of ever returning to.

He walked away on his own, tracing the path that he’d taken here with Effy, until suddenly he realized that he had no idea where he was. Maybe he’d taken a wrong turn somewhere, maybe he’d missed a turn, but he couldn’t figure out which way he’d come from, and with a wave of panic he realized that he couldn’t remember where he lived, either.

For what felt like the hundredth time that day, Tony was reminded of just how helpless he was. His hands still weren’t functioning well enough for him to hit the buttons properly, so he couldn’t even call his mum for help. So he wondered around aimlessly, trying to stifle the panic rising in his chest, when he saw a little beacon of hope; a block of flats that looked incredibly familiar.

It wasn’t where he lived, Tony could tell that much, but it was better than nothing. As he walked up the stairs, it felt increasingly familiar. Before he’d even realized where he was going, Tony was sat down in front of the door to a flat that he barely recognized, hugging his knees to his chest and trying desperately to ignore the tears prickling at his eyes as he tried to remember where his home was.

 

The sky was still dark whenever Tony heard footsteps down the hall.

“Tony!” Maxxie’s voice was soft and worried, comforting in just the way that Tony needed as his body shook on the floor from a mixture of the cold and _fear_.

“Got lost.” Tony stated simply, hoping he didn’t sound as broken and scared as he felt. He hugged himself for a moment, and then there was a warm body pressed again his, an arm wrapping around his neck to pull him close. “Maxxie, I… Where do I fucking live?”

He couldn’t help it anymore. He let out a loud sob and fell against Maxxie’s chest, not even attempting to resist as Maxxie pulled him close.

Tony needed this. He needed a hug, he needed closeness, he needed someone who cared enough to stay with him like this, when he was fucked up and sad and couldn’t function. He needed someone who wouldn’t leave just because it was hard. He needed Maxxie, sweet Maxxie who took him to dance rehearsals and always tried to make him laugh and held his hand on buses when he was scared and cut his food up without asking because it was obvious he couldn’t do it on his own.

So Tony  cried against Maxxie’s chest, about Sid and Michelle and everything he’d forgotten, about not being able to go to college and not being able to walk home on his own, about all of his friends leaving him.

His hands twisted in Maxxie’s shirt like a helpless plea. “Where do I fucking _live_?”

It felt like more this time. It wasn’t just that Tony couldn’t find his house; it was that he couldn’t find anything. He couldn’t find _himself_. This body wasn't his anymore. It had been bruised and battered beyond recognition, and even though it had healed up, he still couldn’t recognize it.

Tony’s body didn’t feel like his home anymore, and he had no idea how to fix that, so he just sobbed harder and pressed closer to Maxxie, who seemed like he might be the only person willing to help Tony find his home again.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading!! i'm not sure when ch 2 will be up, but hopefully it'll be soon!!  
> kudos/comments are v much appreciated!
> 
> the title is a quote from an interview w christopher hitchens


End file.
